An old CRT television sat on a folding chair in the ring.

A crudely constructed steel cage surrounded it.

Micheal Graves leaned against the ropes with a remote in his hand.

Miss Furry sat cross-legged across from the television, the Anarchy Championship on her knees.

On the screen, Centurion's promo from March Madness.


Graves paused the video.

Furry said nothing.

He pressed play.


Pause.

Nothing.

Play.


Pause.

"You ain't got nothin' to say about that?"

Furry looked towards Graves.

"I did."

"When?"

"When I beat him.

Keep going."

Graves pressed play.

Centurion called himself the lion and Furry the sacrificial lamb thrown into the cage to distract him.

He said the outcome was inevitable.

Set in stone.

The video ended in static.

"I forgot how much that smug bastard talks."

"He had a lot to explain."

"First he takes our tag belts. Now he's crawlin' after the Anarchy title."

"He took your belt."

"Our belts."

"Yours and Kris's.

You want me to hurt him because he beat you?"

"I want you to hurt him because he's tryin' to take what's yours."

"No."

"No?"

"You wanted him hurt before this match was announced."

"Well, excuse the hell outta me for holdin' a grudge."

"I don't need yours.

At March Madness, Centurion said I had no thoughts of my own. He said I only existed because you needed me. He said everyone had a reason for putting me in that match except me.

If I walk into this cage carrying your anger, then I prove him right.

You told me this championship belonged to me."

"It does."

"Then let me defend it for my reasons.

Centurion decided who I was without even looking at me.

He doesn't get to do it again."

"That sounds real good, but Centurion don't gotta decide shit this time."

Graves motioned toward the cage.

"Pinfall. Submission. Escape. That old bastard can walk outta here champion without ever touchin' you."

"He can pin Jay."

"Or let you and Fetu beat the hell outta each other while he climbs.

You beat Centurion once. That don't mean much if he pins somebody else and says he took his title back."

"It means he doesn't have to prove me wrong."

Furry turned toward the camera.

"He only has to leave with my championship and pretend he did.

Last time, Centurion had already written the ending. Why I was there, what I was, and that I couldn't win.

He knew everything except the truth."

"And then you beat him."

"And then I beat him.

You gave Graves credit for my opportunity. Management credit for placing me in your way, and yourself credit for surviving a plan that only existed inside your own head.

You gave everybody a reason for why I was standing there.

Everybody except me.

This time, you can climb. You can run. You can wait for an opportunity to place your hands over a chest you didn't knock down.

But if you leave with my championship without beating me, you have found another way not to see me."

"Fetu ain't exactly gonna stand around and make it easy."

"No."

Furry looked toward an empty corner.

"Jay Fetu doesn't care what happened between Centurion and me or what Woke Mind Virus took from you and Kris.

He doesn't need to correct the past.

Jay only wants the championship, and that makes him dangerous.

Centurion is coming to fix something that's been sitting in his chest since March.

Jay doesn't care about any of that.

Jay doesn't need to control this match or overpower both of us.

He only needs Centurion and me to forget he is there for three seconds."

"Wouldn't be the first time somebody stole a win while two idiots were busy starin' at each other."

"That is what Centurion is counting on too."

Furry placed the championship on the television.

"Centurion wants me angry. He wants me chasing him around this cage, trying to prove March Madness wasn't an accident. He wants my attention badly enough to assume Jay will disappear the moment he has it.

But Jay doesn't disappear.

He waits."

"So what's the plan?"

"I don't give either of them what they need."

Furry stepped toward the cage door.

"I'm not chasing Centurion around this cage.

And I'm sure as hell not forgetting Jay's standing in it too.

Both of them stay where I can see them. That's the whole plan.

If Centurion climbs, he turns his back on me.

If Jay waits for an opening, I move to ensure it belongs to me."

Furry's eyes moved from one empty corner to the other.

"Three people. Three ways to win. Every choice one makes creates a mistake for the other."

"Sounds like you're expectin' them to beat each other for you."

"No."

Furry fastened the championship around her waist.

"I expect them to be exactly who they are.

Centurion will watch me because he needs to erase what happened.

Jay will watch Centurion because obsession creates opportunity.

And I will watch them both."

Furry approached the cage door.

"Centurion's mistake was deciding I didn't matter.

I won't make that same mistake with Jay."

She opened the door and stood one step from escaping.

"Well?"

Furry looked outside.

Then she stepped backward and pulled the door shut.

"Jay can wait for his opportunity.

Centurion can wait for his redemption."

The latch fell into place.

"Neither one is getting it from me."

Furry rested both hands over the championship.

"Centurion already told me how our story was supposed to end once.

Jay is hoping we are too busy arguing about it to notice him writing his own."

She looked into the camera.

"But this is not Centurion's story.

Or Jay Fetu's opportunity.

It is my championship."

Furry switched off the television.

"And I decide how this one ends."